CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Black Knight
The interior of the tavern, once warm and lively with happy diners, was now stifling with the promise of violence yet to be shed. The bandits Carter had named Ugly, Blondie, and Teeth, along with two unnamed cohorts, stood blocking the entrance to the establishment. Four other goons blocked the back exit into the kitchens. The only thing that stood against them and Carter was a lone guardsman, the young Rann, who looked quite small next to the nine fully grown, adult men who he was facing off with.
There were also three other patrons remaining in the tavern, though whose side they were on was anyone's guess.
"How'd you find me?" Carter asked Ugly. He had his own ideas but was buying time by asking the question. Hopefully one of the customers who had fled had gone to get help from the guard. Carter was sure that there would be a contingent of peace officers on the way here at any moment. He just had to stall until then.
"Did you really think you were safe with the guard?" Ugly said with a grin. "It only took a few copper greasing their palms to get one o' them to tell me everything about you."
Rann growled, obviously upset that one of his people would betray them for so little. Teeth snickered, and Carter was annoyed to see that the bastard was still wearing the sunglasses that he had stolen from him.
"Well, you definitely got your act together quick," Carter told them, still buying time. "I only escaped from you last night, yet you found me within a day. I'm impressed."
Ugly looked like he was about to say something to continue the conversation, but Blondie interrupted. "Boss, the guards will be here any minute. We need to finish this now."
The large bandit huffed, obviously annoyed. "Fine," he said before drawing his weapon. He turned his hideous face towards Carter and grinned widely. "You know you're lucky, squint. I would'a loved taking my time on you, making you scream. But we're outta time, and so I'll have to kill you quick."
Shit. Carter tightened his grip on his sword and knife, his eyes scanning the area. He watched the other bandits draw their weapons and begin advancing. Where the hell were those guards?
"You're not getting near him, you hear me?!" Rann shouted as he stepped forwards to meet Ugly and the others.
"I told you ta step off!" Ugly shouted. The big bandit raised his sword, ready to slash down at the teenager, when a sudden bout of insane laughter interrupted him. The sound was so unexpected, its tone so hysterical, that it caused everyone inside the tavern to stop what they were doing.
The source of the guffaws was seated at the bar, clutching at his side, and doubled over in amusement as he continued to belt out the insane sniggers. The once quiet figure in black, who had previously been content to ignore the surroundings and just stare at the wall, was now laughing so loudly that the attention of everyone inside the building was directly on him.
"What the hell?" Ugly asked as the man continued to gleefully giggle to himself. "What the hell is so damn funny?"
The laughter eventually petered down, ending in a few choked coughs. The man in the black cloak then sat up straighter and grabbed his mug, which was still full of frothy ale. He brought the tankard up to his mouth and began chugging the liquid down, lifting his head back as the mug emptied. The motion caused his hood to fall back, revealing a mess of curly black hair and pale, ragged skin. Rivulets of liquid from the ale spilled down the sides of his mouth. He didn't seem to care about getting his clothing and armor doused with his own drink as he continued to chug down until the flagon was empty. The dark man then set down the mug onto the bartop, the slam of the wood upon its surface sounding loud in the now quiet tavern.
The man in black turned around and Carter saw his face for the first time. Grotesque was the only way to describe it. Ugly the bandit was hideous for sure, but his was a natural kind of repugnance; he was born disgusting. The man in black though looked like he used to have a normal face. He, compared to the bandit leader, had become hideous. Numerous scars decorated his flesh. Some from cuts, others from gouges, and even more from burns. His nose had been broken several times and had healed wrong; it now looked nothing like a true nose and instead resembled a crooked snout. His left eye was missing but he didn't bother to cover it, the empty socket bare and open for everyone to see into. Tufts of hair that could have once been a beard grew from the ruined face, covering his cheeks and jaw in patches of black. He was missing some teeth but those that he did have were filed down to sharp points and looked sharper than the teeth of the goblin that had bitten him.
The worse thing, though, was his lone, remaining eye. It was completely undamaged, but that was only physically. The intense blue orb almost shone with madness, an insanity so vivid that it seemed to burn. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then that man's soul had stopped being human a long time ago.
"By Velica," Ugly muttered. He and a few of his goons took a step back upon seeing the hideous face of the man in black.
The dark figure stood up from his stool and Carter realized just how tall he was. Ugly was a giant of a man, but this monster towered over him. He must have been seven feet tall, with the top of his head less than a foot from the ceiling. The man's lone blue eye flicked to various corners of the room, looking like a lizard's as it scanned the area around it. After a few moments of glancing around, the blue eye focused directly on Carter and the frightening specter in black laughed again. Unlike his previous peals of insanity though, this laugh was quick and more subdued. It wasn't the giggling of a madman, but more a bark of relief. It was the sound of a tired old man finally feeling respite after suffering an illness for so long.
The dark man's gaze broke away from Carter when Ugly started shouting once more. "Who the fuck are you? You'll keep out of this, you lunatic, if you know what's good for you!"
The black figure turned its full attention on Ugly. The short moment of sanity he had shown vanished, and the man smiled wide, flashing the bandits his sharp teeth. Underneath the billowing cloak was a full set of black plate armor. It had looked expensive once, but the dents, rents, and rust covering it now made the armor look almost useless. Its marred appearance, though, only added to the man's fearsome aura. After all, what sort of madman would go to battle in a set of ruined armor?
The monster's right hand moved slowly across his belt to grab the handle of his sword. With an almost liquid languishness, the man drew out the blade from its scabbard; it was as if he was relishing the motion, cherishing the sweet few moments of peace before the onset of violence. The sound of sharp steel sliding across leather was loud inside the all but silent tavern, every soul within watching the actions of this wild specter before them.
As the sword was drawn, inch after inch of dark metal was revealed. The weapon was completely black. Its long blade, the hilt and pommel, even the handle was black as night. Carter realized that the sword was completely constructed in some strange dark metal, matte black in texture that seemed to absorb all the light. He also noticed that the weapon was completely one construction; it wasn't made of separate parts. The blade, the handle, the hilt; all of it was one piece. It was like the sword was 3D printed in one segment instead of assembled from separate parts at a blacksmith's forge.
Despite the weapon's otherworldly construction, the design was quite plain. There was no ornamentation or adornment to be found on the sword at all. Its hilt was a plain black, the crossguard undecorated, and the grip bare metal. The blade was completely functional, its edges and point sharp, yet no etchings or flourishes marked the spartan metal. The design was as basic as a sword got.
"Whoa, now, friend! Don't do anything stupid!" Ugly stated when the black figure had fully drawn his weapon. "We only want the Lacotian, we got no quarrel with you!"
Upon hearing his words, the dark man's smile widened and he began to softly chuckle. His bright blue eye glinted with intense amusement, and soon the laughter became louder.
"The bastard's off 'is rocker, Boss!" Teeth said as he gripped his sword tightly in both hands.
Ugly was about to say something more, but the dark figure began moving. He stepped forwards, sword drawn and held loosely in his hand, heading towards the bandits.
"Fuck it, you wanna die so badly? Fine by me!" Ugly rushed forwards to meet the hulking figure in the black plate. He lashed out with his sword, a move that the black knight easily countered. The black sword met the heavy blow, the blade twisting and knocking the bandit's sword aside. The armored man's weapon then slashed forwards, the edge of the blade cutting clean across Ugly's face. Blood erupted from the deep, cavernous slice upon the right side of the bandit's face and the large man screamed in agony, dropping his weapon to clutch at the wound. The knight sent a powerful kick at the gang leader, the blow sending the large man sprawling across the tavern floor in an undignified heap.
The bandits saw their boss get taken down and swiftly snapped into action. The four at the front suddenly dashed forwards to attack the black knight. He, for his part, only smiled and waited for them to come.
One of the bystanders who had been sitting quietly chose that moment to act. He was at a table near the rear of the tavern, so he leaped out of his seat with his weapon drawn and began to attack the thugs guarding the back entrance. One of the bandits was taken completely by surprise and got a stab through the heart. The others rallied and began to defend themselves from the man attacking them. Rann rushed off to help the man, and soon the two of them were engaged, fighting the three bandits blocking the rear entrance.
The last of the bystanders took that as his cue to act. He jumped into action, drawing his own sword and rushing to where the four bandits were fighting the black knight. One of the thieves saw him coming and broke off from the rest to intercept. Their swords clashed loudly as they fought.
Carter stood stock still as he watched the brutal melee play out. Although he was the reason for all this carnage, he now found himself forgotten in all the chaos. He gripped his weapons in his sweaty palms, ready to test out his half-forgotten fencing techniques on anyone who tried to attack him, but no one bothered. Everyone had their own opponents and so were content to leave him be for the time being.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
While the knight was busy fighting two of the bandits head-on, Teeth snuck up behind him. The old bandit struck out with his sword, intending to stab the monstrous man in the back, but his blade just bounced off the knight's tough plate. Teeth shrieked when his opponent suddenly turned around and brought his full attention to bear. The knight struck out with his sword and the old bandit was able to block the strike with his own blade. The dark man then moved to strike again when something strange happened.
Carter watched as the black knight's blade became covered in some type of ink-like mist. The mist covered the weapon before suddenly expanding upwards. Right in front of his eyes, Carter saw the knight's sword lengthen at both ends until the mist vanished and in the sword's place was a heavy battleaxe. The knight used the transformed weapon to slash down at Teeth, the added weight allowing the weapon to break through the bandit's defenses.
Teeth's sword shattered and the black axe blade bit into the side of his neck, cleaving through the collarbone and burying itself in his chest. A gout of blood erupted from both the wound and Teeth's mouth. The old bandit let out a gurgle before he dropped lifeless to the floorboards, red leaking all around him.
Although the battleaxe's blade was stuck deep inside Teeth, the black knight didn't bother to dislodge it. The dark mist returned, surrounding the weapon before it quickly reverted back to its sword form, allowing him to easily pull it out. The knight then turned around and began to fend off the attacks of the two bandits who he had been fighting with.
A pained scream from behind him interrupted Carter's observation of the black figure's battle. He turned around to see Rann and the bystander fighting. They had managed to kill another of the bandits, who lay dead next to his cohort. But Rann was in dire straits. His opponent had managed to get a good hit on his sword arm, and the young guardsman was having difficulty fending off his opponent's attack. The bystander was busy fighting his own opponent, and would not be able to help Rann out.
Carter forced his still, almost shell-shocked body to move. If he didn't act, Rann would die. He dashed towards the young guardsman as fast as he could and was almost there when the bandit suddenly thrust forward with his sword, stabbing Rann in the gut.
"No!" Carter shouted. Fury boiling within him, the dark-haired man lashed out with his sword, intent on cutting the bandit's head off.
The thief heard his shout and turned around, easily deflecting Carter's clumsy strike with his sword. Carter forced himself to calm down and remember some of his old fencing moves. He struck with a quick thrust toward the bandit's midsection, but his attack was once more easily batted aside. Carter moved to attack again, but the bandit was much faster. The thief lunged forward, burying his blade deep in Carter's belly.
The dark-haired man grunted as he felt the cold steel part his flesh and enter his insides, cutting into his organs while sliding deep within him. Hot fire flared out from the wound, the agony causing Carter to drop his heavy sword. He looked down at his opponent and saw the content look on the bandit's face. The lowlife actually thought that he had won. Carter wanted nothing else but to prove him wrong.
His right hand shot up and grabbed the bandit's sword by its crossguard. The thief's eyes widened in surprise and he looked up to meet Carter's furious glare. The bandit tried to pull the sword out but Carter's grip remained tight. He kept the sword embedded in his gut as he swung the knife in his left hand. The blade sunk deep into the side of the bandit's neck. The thug gurgled out in pained surprise and Carter could see the silver sheen of his blade inside the man's open mouth. It had cut through the flesh and bone of the man's jaw and had wedged itself deep inside his maw. Carter viciously twisted the knife before yanking it out, causing a gush of blood to erupt from the wound. Weaker pulses of blood squirted out of the opening as the bandit fell to the floor dying. The gushers of blood stopped when his heart did.
Carter groaned. He dropped his knife, then grabbed the sword still stuck to his belly. Although it was pure agony, Carter managed to pry the sword out of him. He dropped the bloody weapon onto the floor next to its dead owner before collapsing to his knees. His hands pressed tightly against his stomach, preventing his insides from spilling out. He tried to breathe normally, but each breath hitched, the movement of his chest causing immense pain in his wound.
"Ser… Lee…"
Carter followed the sound of the voice and saw Rann laying on the floor. Blood was steadily pooling around him. Carter ignored the pain in his belly as he forced himself to move. Slowly, with one hand holding his insides in and the other on the floor, he crawled his way across the way to where Rann lay. The young guardsman had taken a stab into the gut as he had, though the guardsman was wearing armor so his wound seemed less severe.
"I'm sorry, Ser," Rann muttered, tears in his eyes. "I should have done better…"
"Shut up, Rann!" Carter said, the agony he was experiencing evident in his voice. "Shut up and lie still. You'll be fine!"
The bystander, who had been fighting with Rann, had just managed to finish off his own bandit. He rushed to the two men on the ground and checked over them. "Shite, those are nasty." He took out a cloth from his pocket and tried to push it against Carter's wounds, but the dark-haired man just shook his head and pointed at Rann, indicating that he should be treated first.
The bystander didn't argue and began looking over the teenager's stab wound. As he worked, Carter looked towards the fighting still going on in the front of the tavern. The other bystander who had been helping the knight lay dead on the floor, an arrow sticking out of his back.
The black knight was busy squaring off against three opponents simultaneously. Two nameless bandits were attacking him with their swords while Blondie kept his distance, sniping with his bow. The knight already had the shaft of an arrow embedded in his left shoulder. This left his left arm hanging useless, but the insane man didn't seem to have any problems fending off his attackers with one arm. His black sword swung through the air, effortlessly battering away the strikes of his two melee opponents. One of the bandits left an opening that the knight was just about to take advantage of, but Blondie took that moment to fire off another arrow. The knight managed to pull back at the last second, dodging the arrow that was just a hair's width away from sinking into his neck.
The black figure seemed to have had enough of Blondie's interference. Mist once more surrounded his sword. The black shape elongated again, this time becoming three times its length. The mist vanished to reveal a spear in the knight's hand. He hefted the shaft and then threw it with practiced ease. The spear shot through the air like an arrow straight toward Blondie. The archer wasn't expecting such an attack and merely stood there in shock as the black metal spear pierced his chest, pinning him to the wall. The blond man gasped his last and soon his body slumped, boneless fingers dropping his bow to the floor.
The black spear suddenly pulled itself out of Blondie's corpse, sailing through the air to return to the knight's grasp. It arrived just in time to parry a blow that one of the bandits had attempted to throw at him. With the longer weapon, the knight was able to bat aside the attacks of the bandits even easier. He whipped the spear around, warding off sword swings before suddenly jabbing forwards, scoring several hits on the bandits. Eventually, he managed to land a killing thrust on one of them, jamming the spear directly into the man's heart and killing him instantly.
The last bandit looked around in fright and saw that his fellows were all dead. He glanced back at the black knight who still wore a manic grin on his scarred face, the single blue eye sparkling with hunger. The thief's flight instincts kicked in and he dropped his sword, turning around and making a mad dash for the back entrance.
The knight watched him run as he lifted the spear. Black mist covered the weapon and it began to shrink. But before the transformation could complete, the knight hurled it forward. The black weapon sailed through the air as it changed, this time becoming a vicious-looking hatchet. The small axe hurled towards the fleeing bandit, spinning head over head in the air until it found its mark. The blade embedded itself directly into the bandit's spine and the man fell dead where he stood.
A silence descended upon the now still tavern and only the sound of pained breathing coming from the wounded Rann and Carter could be heard. The lone bystander had managed to staunch Rann's wound, though the young guard had fallen unconscious some minutes back and was lying peacefully on the hard wooden floor.
Carter looked past all the devastation around him to direct his stare at the black knight. The man stood in the center of the destruction, surrounded by bodies and ruined furniture. He, too, ignored the remains of the mayhem he had just caused. Instead, his single blue eye stared directly at Carter.
"You're awful at fighting," the knight spoke up for the first time. Like his face, his voice was a mess. It was a deep mixture of gravelly and muted. He began to walk forwards, stepping over blood and corpses as he made his way toward Carter. "But that doesn't matter. Took me forever to find you. She had me looking even before you arrived."
Carter narrowed his eyes as he watched the armored giant approach. What the hell was he talking about? He was looking for him? She had him looking? Who was this she? And before he arrived? Did that mean before he was transported to this world?
Carter forced himself to his knees as the knight grew closer. The bystander who was treating Rann backed away in fright. The knight's loud steps sounded ominous against the frail floorboards of the tavern.
"Doesn't matter. Nothing matters." The knight held his hand out towards the body of the last bandit to die, the one that had been killed by the hatchet. Said weapon pulled itself out of the corpse before flying back into the knight's armored hand. "Been looking forwards to this for a long, long time."
The giant stood directly in front of Carter, his black armor and billowy cloak stained with blood. Carter, still on his knees, forced himself to look up at the figure despite the pain the movement caused his wound. The knight met his gaze with his lone, blue eye. He was smiling, though this time there was no malice in it.
The knight dropped down to one knee. Although he knelt, the man was still much larger than Carter, with the latter's head at chest height. This close to him, Carter was able to see just how truly monstrous the knight was. There was also a faint smell to him, one that didn't make sense.
He smelled of ashes.
The knight lifted his strange black sword and Carter, for a moment, thought that he would die. That thought died quickly when the massive man pushed the handle of the weapon into Carter's hands.
The dark-haired man was surprised by the weight. It was like he was trying to lift up a car, and his fingers strained to keep a grip on the hilt. While still holding the weapon by the blade, the knight placed the point directly against his own neck.
"Finally," said the scarred man. "I've had enough of this shite."
"Wait!" Carter shouted, but his call was not heeded.
With a vicious push, the knight plunged forwards. The sharp tip of the black blade buried itself deep into his throat. Blood erupted from the wound, splashing down onto Carter's shocked face. The knight continued pushing down until the point of the blade sprouted from the back of his head.
The large body shook for a few seconds, then remained still. A minute passed, then two. Carter said nothing as he stared at the dead man's ruined face, his single blue eye still open. This time it lacked any of the insane fire that had been there only a few moments ago. The blue orb, once electric tumult, was now still, like the open sky. It was calm, at peace.
The knight's heavy weight caused the body to tip to the side. The black blade, still in Carter's grip, sliced through the man's neck as his corpse toppled over. The loud clatter of his heavy armored form hitting the floor sounded loud in the deathly silence of the room.
Carter, ignoring the blood covering his face, brought his eyes down to look upon the knight's still body. He then turned his eyes to stare at the sword in his hands. The heavy weight of before was now gone, and it felt light as air in his hands.
What the hell had just happened?
Suddenly, he felt a shift inside him. It was as if something vast was pushing into his mind, forcibly making its way inside him. It felt like the sword that had stabbed him earlier, only in place of the flaming agony, this sensation was more cold and numbing. It slipped into his head from the back of his skull, then seemed to just stay there, pooling like a puddle. It wasn't unpleasant per se. Just… strange.
A second later, the weapon in his hand began to change. Like he had seen previous times before, a sort of inky black mist began to seep out of the metal. Its vaporous tendrils covered the entire surface of the weapon whereupon the sword began to shrink down. Its size shifted, as did its shape, and soon it bore no resemblance to the weapon it had originally been. Instead, clutched tightly in his hand, was something that was well-known and familiar to him.
As it had in the battle with the bandits, the black weapon had transformed itself. What the hell was this thing? Why had the knight given it to him?
"Look out!"
The call from the bystander snapped Carter out of his thoughts and he looked away from the weapon in his hand. He looked up just in time to see the large form of Ugly rushing towards him. The man was alive, though the bloody gash he had received to the face still leaked a serious amount of blood. It seemed as if the coward had pretended to be dead, waiting for a moment when everyone's guard was down to attack. He then retrieved his sword from where he'd dropped it and was obviously intent on killing Carter before making a break for it.
Carter didn't think. In that moment of life-or-death, instincts ingrained into him from his training years ago suddenly reacted. His hands rose up, the black weapon gripped tightly between them. He aimed the sights on Ugly's approaching form then squeezed the trigger. The hammer cocked back, the cylinder rotated, then the hammer fell. A bark of thunder and a flash of fire erupted from the weapon. Ugly staggered as the bullet tore through the center of his chest, carving a cave into his flesh before erupting out of his back. Chunks of him showered onto the floor.
Carter pulled the trigger again. Then again. Two more explosions erupted in the ruined tavern. Two more holes pierced Ugly's body, destroying flesh, bone, and organs. The large bandit stumbled before falling on his face, the sound of his heavy corpse slamming into the floor music to Carter's ear.
The dark-haired man sat there, both shock and awe etched onto his face. He looked down at the black gun in his hands, a perfect copy of the revolver he had once owned.
In the back of his mind, he thought he could hear the twinkling sound of a woman laughing.